In Sickness And In Health
by jennyj90
Summary: CJ is unwell and Molly is doing her best to look after him


**Thank you to the anonymous Tumblr user who sent me the prompt for a poorly CJ fanfic. I hope I've done your idea justice.**

**This is only a one-shot I'm afraid, but I hope everyone enjoys it nonetheless. Reviews are always welcome :)**

Charles lay curled up in bed, sick to the stomach and feeling incredibly sorry for himself. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, his gut clenched in pain. His temperature had soared overnight, but that had only been the beginning.

He pushed back his pillow, desperate to get himself up. He was a former army captain, he was tough and strong. Not this weak man, crippled by a virus.

Molly came into the room and immediately shook her head in dismay.

"Oi, back to bed, you!"

She placed the tray she was carrying onto the bedside table, and helped Charles to lay back down. He'd spent six months protecting her in Afghanistan; the least she could do was take care of him when he was unwell.

Charles peered over at the tray, his forehead creased. "What's that?"

"Chicken soup obviously. It's from a tin; I didn't make it or nothing. Could you imagine if I gave you food poisoning and all?"

Charles sat up, nausea sweeping over him. The mere smell was enough to make his stomach churn. He took a deep breath, and then forced himself to think of something, anything else. Molly had made an effort; the least he could do was try to eat some of it.

He brought the tray over to his lap and lifted the spoon. It didn't even look appetising.

"Knock, knock!" Charles' mum strolled into the room carrying a bag full of food. "I just popped to Waitrose to get a few essentials."

Molly scoffed. Growing up her family couldn't have even afforded to walk through the door of Waitrose, let alone shop there.

Mrs James took no notice, and perched herself on the bed beside her son. She raised her perfectly manicured hand and placed it against his clammy forehead. Shaking her head, she retrieved a thermometer from her pocket.

"No, no, no!" Charles leaned back. "I'm a grown man!"

"I know, dear. I'm just trying to look after you."

"I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself. Besides which, I have the best medicine right here." Despite his pain he reached his hand out for his girlfriend. She was all he wanted and needed. "She even made me chicken soup."

"You should be eating something dry. Shall I make you some plain toast?"

"I'm fine, mother! Please stop fussing."

Charles' mum lifted her nose and stormed out of the room in a huff, leaving Molly in fits of giggles. Molly found her stubbornness amusing, but also somewhat endearing. She was strong minded and knew what she wanted, very much like her son. Unfortunately he'd also inherited her temperament.

Molly remembered back to Afghanistan, not long after she returned from R&R. Charles had been sulking because he thought something had happened between her and Smurf during their time back home. That was when she realised how he felt about her.

She squeezed the hand of her poorly boyfriend, and nodded towards the soup.

"You gonna eat that or what?"

Charles glanced down at the bowl again, his stomach lurching. He closed his eyes, but it was no good because he could still smell it. He dropped Molly's hand, pushing the tray towards her and hurrying into the bathroom. He made it just in time.

Molly sped over, unsure what to do. She stood helpless as Charles doubled over the toilet in obvious distress. Cautiously she reached out to rub his back, but he quickly flinched, pulling away from her touch.

She couldn't help but feel stung at the rejection. Her head falling in sadness, she headed back to the quiet of their room.

"Well done, Dawesy," she muttered to herself, grabbing the tray and heading downstairs to the kitchen to throw the contents of the bowl away.

Mrs James was stood over the Nespresso machine, making a Caramelito coffee. Molly smiled, realising that she could now identify the different coffee capsules. She'd only ever tried a sip of the Rosabaya and as nice as it was, she still preferred a mug of tea any day.

"Can I make one for you, Molly?"

Molly shook her head, realising she must have been staring. "Not unless it has magic powers."

"Sit down, love. Talk to me."

Molly sat at the table and sunk her head to her hands. "I just don't know what to do. I thought I was being helpful making him soup and it just made him worse."

"Soup's better for the flu or a cold. It warms the insides. For sickness it needs to be something dry and plain, and won't taste terrible the second time around."

"I dunno any of this."

"Trust me, you'll find out soon enough when you become a mother yourself."

"I'd be a shit mum." Molly's hand quickly threw to her mouth, realising she'd just sworn.

Mrs James laughed gently. "Nonsense. You are a very exceptional young lady, Molly, and there is a reason my son is so wonderfully happy with you. You bring out the very best in him; create a glow in his face that I've never seen before."

"What about Rebecca?"

"She was… unsuited to his nature. I knew you were something special even before I first met you. Whilst I sometimes doubt my son's mind, there's no doubting his heart."

Molly could feel herself blushing, flattered by the kind words.

"He's an idiot for loving me."

"You should have more faith in yourself, dear. Now, why don't you go take him a glass of water and tuck him back up in bed?"

Molly nodded before retrieving a glass from the cupboard and filling it with filtered water from the fridge. She had thought about using the tap, but it wasn't worth the ensuing argument about how unhealthy unfiltered water was. Molly knew that it had never done her any harm.

"One last thing, dear."

Molly stopped in the doorway and spun around. Mrs James stepped over and clasped both of her hands around Molly's free one.

"Welcome to the family."


End file.
